


Never Boring

by phlight



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Seungri would call it a brojob, because he's totally straight you guys, topri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlight/pseuds/phlight
Summary: Seunghyun knows about Seungri's pre-show routine.





	Never Boring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [corpuscallos_m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corpuscallos_m/gifts).



> This is an old fic that I wrote last year to post on OneHallyu, but I never got around to it, and because I'm old I just kinda forgot about it after awhile. Rediscovered it yesterday while I was rummaging around in some files, then sent it to corpuscallos_m for laughs. I'm dedicating it to her even though she deserves better. I don't think the characterization is quite right (I just can't take dom!Seunghyun seriously like I did when I was new to the fandom) but I don't think it's completely off the mark, either. If you've read my other fics you might notice that I've mined this one for phrases and ideas, so it might seem a little repetitive even though technically, it was here first. There are lots of ways to talk about dicks, but it's not infinite.
> 
> In the alternate universe where Seunghyun isn't an old man with a bad back...

Okay, Seungri wants to set the record straight for himself: he's not gay. There's nothing wrong with being gay, but he finds the idea laughable in his case. Kiss a guy? Fall _in love_ with a guy? Well...he does love the other four Bigbang members and he knows they love him, but it's too difficult to label their bond with just one word. They're brothers. Friends. Companions. Muses. You can't spend as much time together as they do without spinning an intricate web of jokes, confessions, tears, pushed buttons, and yes, deep affections. Naturally there's a physical aspect to their relationships, too. They all like to horse around, tickle, hug, touch. Seungri even lets Jiyong kiss him when they're sure there aren't any cameras around – but just on the cheek. If Seungri gets a boner because of a kiss on his cheek, it's his own horny fault. It just reminds him of what he's missing, okay? Touring is lonely; they hardly get to see their girlfriends and leering groupies become less appealing each day. Jiyong is cuter than most girls anyway, especially when he smiles.

But the boner is a concern. There's fanservice and then there's fanservice with boners, and it's the latter that got him bitched out by the big boss twice already. Yang would be understanding with anyone else – hey, it happens. But no, Seungri's dick must be 100% under his control at all times. He can still hear the nasal, nagging voice in his head, suggesting he wear looser pants. As if that wouldn't make it even more noticeable...the man can be such a dumb creep. Seungri suspects he has some lowly assistant pore over fantaken pictures just to nail him for anything untoward he might wear, do, or say. Maybe he saves them for personal review later? Okay, now Seungri's grossing himself out. If there's anything worse than having the sex talk with your parents, it's having it with your boss.

Regarding control...well, it might be unfair, but maybe the boss had a point. Seungri's libido was an established running joke not just amongst the members, but in the fandom. A few years ago he took pride in that image, but now it troubles him. He knows 2015 is going to be huge for the group, and he has even bigger plans down the line. He needs to command respect in his field. To be respected, he needs to be in control.

Seungri is a 25 year old man; he doesn't have to be told how to solve this problem. He simply adds rubbing one out to his usual pre-show routine. Seungri is a fucking pro at getting himself off. If there was an Olympic masturbation event, he would win gold for South Korea. Perhaps the only one better than him is Seunghyun, though Seungri bases his rating purely on stealth – when they all lived together, he walked in on everyone but Seunghyun. (Jiyong almost seemed to _want_ to get caught, the little freak.) Seunghyun's either a jerk-off ninja, or he doesn't do it.

Impossible. Everyone does it, especially perverts like Seunghyun. Seungri was going to do it right now, in the privacy of his dressing room. This venue is really nice. They each have their own space, so for once he won't have to jizz over a toilet. Seungri is all about savoring luxuries, so he urged the hair and makeup stylists to rush, lying about needing a nap. They complied after he promised not to sleep face down and mess up their work.

 _Sleeping,_ he laughs to himself. They totally bought it. Seungri would also win medals for his country in napping. He could fall asleep anytime, anywhere. When he wasn't asleep he was in charge of backstage banter. He'd be the one joking around with hyungs and support staff, trying to pump them up for the show. Maybe he'd even take a few pictures for SNS, if he didn't think it'd provoke Seunghyun. The world had seen enough of the inside of Seungri's nostrils. Youngbae was bad, but Seunghyun was the fucking worst. Seungri couldn't nap in peace even if he really needed to.

 _Seunghyun._ He was the only hyung who made Seungri wonder. Jiyong liked to plan their stage interactions, liked to play with his hair, liked to tell him what a pretty blonde he made. This was all cute, nice, fuzzy. But Seunghyun liked teasing Seungri _too_ much. The difference was the look in the eyes. Jiyong saw him as an especially adorable puppy (or panda, whatever). Seunghyun shared that sentiment most of the time, but sometimes he looked at him like he was a goddamned snack. It was unnerving as shit and Seungri had never gotten used to it. He'd even had dreams about Seunghyun biting him; he'd wake up sweating and tangled up in his sheets. Seunghyun had actually bitten him before, so maybe Seungri's anxiety was based in reality. The mercurial nature of his hyung's affection meant he was never able to fully lower his guard around him. Usually his hyung was just goofing off or deliberately ignoring him, but he was too skilled at executing sneak attacks. He loved to walk up behind Seungri, brush long fingers over his nape or along the dip of his spine. He'd stick around just long enough to watch the shiver, then slip away with that fucking smirk on his perfect face.

 _What the fuck?_ Seungri has tit gifs bouncing all over his phone screen, and he's sitting here thinking of Seunghyun? He looks down at his lap and sighs. Maybe he really doesn't have any control over this thing.

He redirects his attention to the porn site, scrolling, looking for a girl who is the exact opposite of the one he sends sweet text messages to every day. He wants a filthy, nasty, cum-gobbling skank. With huge boobs and an ass bigger than his. And—

A text notification appears across the top of his screen. Seungri stares, incredulous. Does he have ESP? Is he a wizard?

**SH: [Maknae is so quiet today.]**

Oh. Yeah. Seungri had been lucky enough to score the room at the end of the hall. Seunghyun's was next to his, and Youngbae was across from them. Seungri could hear him bitching through his closed door right now. Youngbae could be a total diva.

Seungri figures the best course of action would be to simply not reply, but this was a golden opportunity to return just a small portion of the bullshit Seunghyun dished out. Seunghyun might tattle on Seungri later, but in the moment no one could stop him.

**SR: [Are you putting your ear against the wall? You're too weird, hyung.]**

**SH: [I'm bored. But I don't hear anything...so...]**

**SR: [So I'm boring you, so leave me alone.]**

**SH: [You're never boring.]**

_Okay._ Seungri rolls his eyes and minimizes the app, going back to the web browser. He wishes there was a stereo in here, something to make a masking noise. He hadn't counted on an audience.

**SH: [Tell me what you're doing.]**

_What the fuck, Seunghyun._

“I'm talking to myself!” Seungri yells, directing his voice at their shared wall. Seunghyun's deep chuckle makes a warm feeling spread in the pit of his stomach. Making his hyungs laugh was one of his favorite pastimes, even when they were really annoying the shit out of him.

He hopes Seunghyun will leave him alone now; time is running out. He'll have to avoid Jiyong later if—

**SH: [If you're that lonely, I'll come talk to you.]**

Seungri is about to reply telling him to fuck off properly when the doorknob rattles. He'd locked it after the makeup artist left. Seungri launches out of his chair, setting his mouth close to the crack in the door jam.

“Go bother Daesung hyung,” he hisses. “I'm trying to take a nap.”

“What a load of shit. You were on your phone. I know what you do every time you disappear before a show,” Seunghyun says.

“So?!” Of course he knew. _Ninja pervert._

“So...I'm going to stand out here and tell everyone what you're doing unless you let me in.”

Seungri stares at the door, half his mind blank with astonishment and the other half considering if Seunghyun would really do it. He could take the humiliation, issue denials, all of it, but if Seunghyun started that ball rolling he'd never be able to get off before a show again. Which meant giving up fanservice with Jiyong. And that was really _fun_.

“I swear to you I will do it. I'll tell Youngbae you wouldn't let me in. _He_ doesn't lock his door,” Seunghyun says. Seungri clenches his jaw. How does Seunghyun know his thoughts so well?

He turns the latch and wrenches the door open, not hiding his irritation at all. He yanks a giggling Seunghyun in the room by one arm, then shuts the door and leans back against it.

Seunghyun has the hungry teasing look on his face, coupled with his stupid dimples and his stupid pink contacts that make him look otherworldly. Seungri is jealous of him; he admits this to himself every time he sees him. Seungri has the best butt in the group, no doubt, but Seunghyun's legs go on for days, and his hair is always great, and his jaw is perfect, and his hands, and his—

Yes, of course it's bigger; Seungri knows he's jab jab jab and T.O.P is the KO hook.

Seungri's eyes flick back up to his hyung's face, and the smile has gone. But his _stare_. That was another thing Seunghyun could do best. He just had to go onstage with sunglasses, remove them, and the VIPs screamed like they could die. Seungri wishes he could make them do that. To be on the receiving end of the stare at close range is unbearable. He rolls his eyes away, his throat clicking on a dry swallow.

“Okay, you're here, so talk.” He could still bitch him out, he just couldn't look at him.

“I don't feel like it.”

“Then wh—” Seungri reaches out in reflexive shock to grip his hyung's forearm. There are about ten jiu jitsu moves he could employ to move Seunghyun's hand, but he is frozen, all his brain signals short-circuited. Seunghyun spreads his first two fingers into a V shape, tracing along both sides of the bulge in Seungri's jeans; his big palm gently rocks into his entire package, getting a thorough feel of what he has to work with.

Seungri stares down, utterly fascinated by current events.

“Look at me.” Seunghyun's voice is soft, but firm.

_What the fuuuuuuuck—_

“Seung-seunghyun hyung.” Seungri stutters when a smart thumb finds the head of his cock and starts rubbing against the most sensitive place. He manages to look into Seunghyun's eyes for maybe one second before he's blinking, trying like hell to form a coherent thought. Unfortunately his nervous system seems excessively dedicated to shooting sizzling spikes of arousal across his lower back. “You—we shouldn't—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Seunghyun deadpans. “But isn't that too boring?”

“You have a girlfriend,” Seungri whispers, managing a whole sentence.

“The best thing about her? She knows just what I like.” His smile is evil, pure evil.

“ _I_ have a girlfriend.”

“You guys are back on? Wow, I didn't know.”

Seungri's eyes open wide when the pleasure stops, Seunghyun's hand lifting away as he takes a big step back.

If Seungri was frustrated with Seunghyun before, he's half crazy now. He grits his teeth as a switch flips somewhere in his brain – or maybe in his dick, fuck, he can admit it. Nothing gets past Seunghyun. He's laughing again, covering his mouth with his hand.

He looks so fucking hot. Seungri wants to bite him.

“I meant—we're just _talking_.”

“Yeah? Talking? You love to talk.”

Seungri fumbles behind his back for the lock on the doorknob. Fucking thing won't move. Angle is wrong. He turns around and just manages to secure it before Seunghyun's arms circle around his chest, pulling him farther into the room. There's a couch, a cheap futon really. The metal frame protests when Seunghyun practically throws him on it.

“ _Seunghyun_.” Seungri drops the honorific on purpose. “Someone will hear—”

“Not if you're quiet.” Seunghyun kneels on the floor next to him, nimble fingers going to work on his belt buckle and zipper. Seungri tosses his head back, his hands flying up to cover his mouth.

Seunghyun grips him through his underwear, pulling the fabric so tight that a wet spot soaks through at the tip. He slowly strokes his fingers up, swiveling his wrist with a practiced curve. It's awful. Seungri moans against his palm, then takes his hands away to gasp out an inarticulate protest. He's thirty seconds or less from coming in his pants, and if he thought he'd never live a masturbation rumor down, a premature ejaculation would be even worse. He knows the risk they're taking right now. Seunghyun wouldn't appreciate squandered effort.

Seunghyun's hand stills as he leans down, his face close enough for a kiss – Seungri skips frozen and goes straight to petrified – but he doesn't. Seungri's held breath whooshes out of him as Seunghyun moves lower, swiping a quick tongue along his collarbone instead. He brings his other hand to the neckline of Seungri's soft t-shirt, yanking the fabric down, stretching it out.

Seungri's dreams—nightmares?—come true. Seunghyun sinks his teeth into the upper swell of Seungri's pectoral muscle, not gently, leaving deep indentations in his skin. Seungri's gasp of pain transitions seamlessly to a moan when Seunghyun's other hand comes back to life, sliding under his waistband to touch him, skin to skin.

“You're too loud,” Seunghyun whispers.

“I thought I was too quiet—oh, _fuck_ —”

“Does your girlfriend get this wet for you?” Seunghyun asks, slicking precum over Seungri's frenulum with one terrible thumb. Seungri shudders, then groans aloud as Seunghyun treats him to another toothy pec massage. “Hey, knock that shit off. Unless you want me to stop?”

Seungri shakes his head in a violent denial— _no_ , _fuck_ _no!_ —and covers his mouth again. He shoves the meaty pad of his palm between his own teeth and bears down on it in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. Seunghyun slides his thumb and forefinger in a tight ring down to the base of Seungri's cock, where he grips in him in a pulsating squeeze.

“Biting yourself now? You must get off on pain,” Seunghyun says, raising one brow.

Seungri hates when he does that, because Seungri can't do it. Also because it's extremely hot. Also he wishes Seunghyun would shut the hell up. He's trying to think about soccer statistics, a pair of Italian loafers he'd been eying on a vintage fashion site, what he ate for dinner, anything to slow down his body's ecstatic reaction to the activity between his legs. He decides Seunghyun would definitely win the jerk-off gold medal. Bested again.

“There's a better way to keep you quiet,” Seunghyun says, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. Seungri notices his hyung's breaths are shallow, quick – the realization that Seunghyun is as excited as he is tears another moan out of him that his hand can't stifle. His circuits are beyond shorted; they're fried. “Yeah, we have to stop you doing that.”

Seunghyun takes his hand out of Seungri's pants, considering the clear fluid on his fingers for a moment before sticking them in his mouth. He gazes at Seungri, so intense and beautiful, and Seungri is certain he will die. His heart is racing like he's been onstage for an hour already.

 _Oh god, we have to perform after this –_ he isn't sure if he feels regret or anticipation. He's going to pretend to kiss Jiyong after he's had Seunghyun's cock in his mouth.

Because that is definitely next. Seunghyun's zipper purrs; he doesn't push his pants down, opting to pull himself through the opening in his underwear instead. He raises his hips, bracing himself on the futon with one hand.

“Don't stare at it,” he scolds.

Seungri licks his lips, unconsciously mimicking Seunghyun's earlier action. He is no stranger to this act, as a receiver. He likes to be rough, likes to fuck their mouths...what did Seunghyun like?

“It's my first time,” he admits, sounding like a bad drama character. He hopes his blue contacts will help promote his innocent image. Seunghyun's pupils blow wide, and now he looks fucking _ravenous_.

_Oh shit._

“Shut up and suck me off, maknae.”

A smartass reply wafts through Seungri's mind – _Are you this rude to Daesung?_ – before he obeys, sliding his head to the edge of the futon so that Seunghyun can press between his lips. To Seunghyun's credit, he doesn't just start thrusting. He gives him a chance to lick, to taste. It's similar to his own, Seungri supposes, but different. His reaction to the sharp salt flavor of Seunghyun's arousal surprises him.

“Mm.” Seungri sucks harder, wanting another hit; the resulting noisy slurp is accidental, yet deliciously lewd. He does it again, on purpose, and lets out another happy hum when it gets him what he wants.

_You taste so fucking good._

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Seunghyun murmurs, not sounding like he meant it. He puts his hand back on Seungri's cock to resume torturing him with those long fingers. With his other hand he brushes Seungri's blonde forelock out of his eyes, before slipping around to cup the back of his head, the tenderness of the movement at odds with his brusque words.

Seungri uses one hand to deal with most of Seunghyun's length, pumping him erratically at the base. He knows he's inexperienced at best, but he draws on his own memories for inspiration and hopes enthusiasm will compensate for any lack of skill. He lets himself get a little sloppy, enjoys the trickle of drool working its way down the side of his cheek, smiles when he earns himself another leak of precum. He really likes the swirl-around-the-head-tongue-flick-over-the-slit move, too. He pulls back to smear it over his lips, then licks it off slowly. Savoring. 

 _I'm_ _eating_ _him_ , I'm _the_ _one_ _eating_ , Seungri thinks as he fastens his lips around the head of Seunghyun's cock once more, and he almost laughs at how fucking crazy this entire situation is. Except that Seunghyun is gripping him tighter now, pulling at him with short, hard strokes that make Seungri's hips jerk and raise off the futon with each movement of his fist.

“Don't stop,” Seunghyun says, his whisper harsh and ragged. “Look at me while I make you come.”

Seungri attempts to keep his hand and mouth moving in some sort of rhythm, but Seunghyun was right again. He must see the red flush that creeps up from the ruined neckline of Seungri's shirt, hear the little whimper he doesn't even try to hold back. He's so close. His lids start blinking, threatening to shut. This isn't just going to be a little pre-show O...he can't remember the last time he felt this hot. He sucks on Seunghyun like he's starving, focusing as much as he can on  his gorgeous fucking face. He can feel the sweat tickling down his calves from the backs of his knees as he lets go, _hard_ , maybe too hard because his left foot seizes up in a cramp.

He has time to release one tiny yelp of pain/pleasure around Seunghyun's cock before it explodes in his mouth. No warning at all. Seunghyun holds Seungri's head in place, biting his lip and furrowing his brows as he comes in total silence, unless Seungri counts the one exhalation of air from his nose.

Seungri almost gags when the first shot of Seunghyun's load hits the back of his throat; he ruefully remembers every time he's done this to a woman. Then he's dealing with the rest of it flooding his mouth; when was the last time the man emptied his tanks? Some seconds later Seunghyun finally lets him go, sitting heavily on the floor with his messy hand held out to the side. Seungri swallows hurriedly, not wanting to let any run out of his mouth and ruin his foundation. The taste is almost overpowering, multifaceted. Definitely Seunghyun.

Seungri sits up slowly, carefully, flexing his ankle back and forth to ease the cramp. Seunghyun cleans himself off with tissues before he starts in on Seungri, dabbing at his swollen lips and sticky lap. Seungri sucks in his breath, still oversensitive, but Seunghyun is very gentle.

“What's up with your leg?” he asks, pulling Seungri to his feet and putting his underwear back in place. He zips him up and belts him in, like he's a kid.

“I had a cramp,” Seungri says, when he thinks he can speak without his voice shaking. He's fascinated by Seunghyun's hands now, but eventually manages to look up at his face, and even put on a pout. “How am I supposed to dance?”

“I'll dance your parts.” Now even the wrinkles at the corners of his smiling eyes appeal to Seungri.

_Damn you, Choi Seunghyun._

“And I can just stand there like you?”

“Watch your mouth, maknae.” Seunghyun's index finger reaches out to toy with Seungri's lower lip.

“You liked watching my mouth just now,” Seungri says, and if he's a little smug, what of it?

“I can't believe you swallowed it. Was that really your first time? Ahh, don't be shy.” He catches Seungri's jaw, making him look into those big candy eyes. “Truthfully I don't like you being _too_ quiet. But next time you have to chill the fuck out or we'll get caught, I'm serious—”

Seungri just stares. Seunghyun is already planning on a next time? He almost asks, _why now_ , why after almost ten years, when Seungri feels the need to assert his independence more than ever? Maybe Seunghyun can sense it, wants to exercise his authority. Or maybe Seunghyun just wants to let go and have a little fun before he has to leave. Could go either way, really, but now is not the time for deep conversation.

The managers shout out a time warning down the hall, and how long had they been in here with the door locked, oblivious to the world? God, how loud had he been, the walls were thin—

Seunghyun grabs a water bottle off a side table and tosses it to him, then holds onto the waistband of his tight jeans to shimmy himself back in place. He unlocks the door; then, incredibly, gets his phone out and starts taking pictures. Seungri just stands by the futon, resigned to his fate.

“If you post those—”

“I won't, sexy boy,” Seunghyun smiles, his eyes still on the screen as he opens the door and backs out into the hallway. Youngbae's door is open now.

“Don't show Youngbae, either!” Seungri protests.

“Private collection,” Seunghyun nods. Then he puts the phone away. “Drink your water, Seungri.”

Seungri drinks, rubbing the sore spot on his chest and considering his possible new pre-show routine; considering his hyung and trying to set his thoughts straight again. Right. About that.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about his erection for the next hour or so.


End file.
